Each summer there is a Short Story Contest in the newsgroup soc.sexuality.spanking. It is only a contest in the general sense since the only strict rules are a limit of 500 words and that the stories are related to spanking. Sometimes there are categories but with such brief stories it is not very significant.
All my stories are fiction and are spanking related. If such subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
These works are copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
My last fifteen SSC-2003 stories are on this page and the first fourteen at SSC 2003 – Part 1
- Letter from Summer Camp (M/t, spank) Child
- Bed Time; Story Time (M/b, spank) Child
- The Water Gun Caper (M/b, spank) Fan fiction
- The Unlucky Mugger (M/M, spank) Adult
- Corner Chat (Adult/g, spank) Mini-saga
- The Fortune Cookie (M/t, spank) Child
- Boris Gets Spanked (M/M, spank) Parody
- English Lesson (M/m, spank Mini-saga
- Boris Spanks Back (M/F, spank) Parody
- The Prince and the Frog (F/t, spank) Child
- Little Red Riding Hood Comes Visiting (teens, spank, sex) Child
- Destiny Control Lines
- Proper Sibling Behavior (MF/bg, spank) Child
- Boy Gets Spanked (M/b, spank) Fan fiction
- SSC-03 Verse
A mini-saga is fifty words (plus/minus two) and line require the use of one of several specified line to open or close the story. They are shown in red.
Letter from Summer Camp
Dear Mom and Dad,
Everything is ***NOT!!!!*** OK here in Camp Whackafanny. I want to come home – IMMEDIATELY!!!!!! Please.
Yes, everything is just like they showed in the brochure – nice playing fields – private lake for swimming and boating and fishing – state park to hike in and – just like they showed – empty. We don't go swimming or play games. We just do calisthenics and running.© YLeeCoyote
It's what they did not show.
The head counselor carries a paddle – it about three feet long and five inches wide and a half inch thick and he likes to use it all the time. One can tell when he is coming from the screams. The other counselors have smaller paddles – only two feet long – or tawses (see I learnt a new word here that I rather I hadn't) that are 2.5 feet long and quarter inch thick leather. There seem to be a contest among the counselors to see who can strap the most of us prisoners, er, campers each day. We don't have seats in the dinning hall because we eat standing up. Well, to be honest we can't sit because it hurts to much.
Remember how you were pleased at how small the clothes requirement were well that's because we just wear jock straps and trainers. They don't want us to have any protection at all.
Your loving and hurting son,
Certain that the outgoing mail was checked, Chester was happy he had a supply of stamped envelopes and managed to run by the post vehicle and flip his letter inside. He was certain that he would be sprung in a couple of days.
But things did not work out as he expected. Two days later at the evening assembly, the head counselor announced that before the movie, they would show the pictures that had been posted to the camp's website. Chester noticed that several of them showed him playing ball and swimming and hoped his parents left before they were posted.
Then to his surprise, his letter appeared on the screen and drew lots of laughter. When everyone calmed down, he was called forward. Confronted, he claimed it was just a joke.
"LIES AND LIBEL ARE NOT FUNNY, YOUNG MAN. Not funny at all." He paused. Chester then realized that the screen was gone and the stage just had a vaulting horse on it. "There a price that must be paid."
He was grabbed by a couple of the counselors and dragged over to the horse. He lost his shorts as he was bent over and held in place.
"It about time that you learnt about paddles and tawses, young man."
The head counselors held up a fraternity paddle and then gave him six WHACKS. Chester yelled for each one. He got another six cuts with a tawse. He yelled some more.
And the entire camp saw how his bottom turned red and heard him cry. He was parked in a front corner with a spot light on him.
"And now campers, the movie."
© Copyright A.I.L., 18 July 2003
Bed Time; Story Time
Now go hop into bed and I'll be right there to tell you a story.
Once upon a time….© YLeeCoyote
Why do stories always start that way?
They just do, Timmy. Should I continue. Once upon a time…there was a little boy….
Why are they always little?
Because you want to hear about boys, Timmy. Once upon a time…there was a little boy….
What's was his name?
I was just about to say, Timmy. …there was a little boy named…Timmy who….
TIMMY! – Just like ME?
Yes, Timmy. Well the story-Timmy lived with his step-mother and step-sister who were very cruel to him.
What happened to his daddy?
Er,…er,…. He was a sailor and was on a long voyage.
Was he the captain? What kind of ship? Was it a battleship? Was it in big fierce battles? With lots and lots of blood?
No, not the captain and it was not a warship either.
Was it a whaling ship? Did they hunt giant whales from little boats? And make the sea RED with their blood?
No, it was just a sailing ship on a long voyage. And because it was a sailing ship it took a long time for the trip. Timmy went through a whole year of school since his father went on the voyage. Do you want to hear the story or ask questions, Timmy?.
Now where was I….
'Very cruel to him….' See, I was really listening to you.
Yes, Timmy. His step-mother and step-sister were very cruel to him. They both slept in soft comfy feather beds with warm down quilts and big pillows. But Timmy had to sleep on the hard floor with just an old, worn and torn horse blanket. If he was lucky, the fireplace still put out heat but it was always cold by midnight.
That's when his fairy godmother or whatever came and did wonderful things; right?
No; not in this story. Timmy was just….
Then it must be Santa that came and gave him lots of wonderful presents; to make up for all the nasty stuff.
Do you still believe in Santa, Timmy?
No. But he's real in stories. Stories are just-make-believe.
Who's telling this story, Timmy?
You are. More…please Wes.
No more interruptions or…. His step-mother and sister were very cruel. If he did anything wrong or naughty or they were in bad moods (which was most of the time) she would spank Timmy.
Did she spank him hard?
Did they use whips?
Did they do it with his pants down?
Did he cry?
That's it, young man. This is how she did it. She picked him up – like this. Pulled down his pants – like this. Pulled him across her lap – like this. And spanked him with her bare hand – like this.
Whaaaaa. Whaaaaa. Whaaaaa. Whaaaaa. Whaaaaa. Whaaaaa. Whaaaaa.
And he cried – just like you.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mommy, Wes is the bestest baby sitter. Can you get him the next time…please?
Author's note: Certainly this is in the child category as the staring character is a child or is he? Perhaps this is age-play with two adults. Perhaps is a just a parody since children don't like being spanked – usually. And if this boy likes being spanked then that makes it edge (at least for some). "You pay your money and you take your choice."
© Copyright A.I.L., 19 July 2003
17: It far from clear if Dennis would make this selection, but it is fun to imagine. There is actually a comic strip where he makes the other choice with his mother by Hank Ketcham who created the Dennis the Menace comic strip. Note that in the US version there was never any spanking but in the UK version there was.
The Water Gun Caper
Dennis was completely thrilled with his new toy – the superduper long-range water gun. He was not terribly upset about the rules that came with it – not in the house (it was not any fun since it could shoot three times as far as the biggest room) and not at adults. He had not meant to hit Mr. Wilson. (He had been caught in the crossfire.) It really was an ac-ci-dent but Mr. Wilson nevertheless was madder than a wet hen.
It was even worse for his mother saw it happen from the porch and screamed. Sadly he drained it at her direction and knew what was going to happen. By the time he got it back some of the other kids would have them and he would no longer have the biggest gun with the greatest range around. And everyone would know he lost it. A few minutes later he was ringing Mr. Wilson's bell.© YLeeCoyote
"Mr. Wilson, I'm very very, sorry that I got you wet." he blurted out. Mrs. Wilson, as always, insisted that he have some of her cookies but then went off leaving the men alone.
"I'm really very sorry that I got you wet" repeated Dennis, "Mom said that I'm to ask you to please hold…" (he was trying hard not to sob like a baby) "…to keep this for a while so I learn my lesson."
Mr. Wilson examined the toy weapon. He recalled the little tiny water pistols he had and how much fun they were. This certainly must be a zillion times better.
"What would your father have done if you shot an grown-up Mr. Wilson?" asked Dennis. "Would he have taken your water gun away."
"No, I don't think so, Dennis." The boy smiled. "He would have spanked me." Dennis stopped smiling and dropped into deep thought in his own private universe.
Mr. Wilson watched him intently. He was motionless like he was frozen in time with the half-eaten cookie halfway to his mouth for at least five minutes.
"Would you spank me rather than keeping the gun, Mr. Wilson; please."
It was the old man's turn to slip into his private universe where (for a change) he remembered being a boy and what was important and what was not. "OK, Dennis. I'll spank you but it will be for real."
Mr. Wilson, moved his chair back and Dennis moved over to his side with the toy. The straps were undone letting the overalls fall to the floor. The tighty-whites soon followed and Dennis was pulled over the waiting lap.
Dennis gripped his precious gun very tightly as Mr. Wilson's big hand spanked his bare bottom until it was cherry red. Try as he might, Dennis could not help but to cry.
Dennis headed home – his hot bottom very sore but hidden far less important than his superduper long-range water gun still in his possession. «Good ole Mr. Wilson could sometimes be a regular guy.»
© Copyright A.I.L., 21 July 2003
18: This story is done in form of a police officer's log. This story was inspired by Jonathan's drawing which I found at https://jock-spank.com/unlucky-mugger. Click to open the image off-site (NSFW).. Another effort based on this picture is at A Mugger's Tail/Tale.
The Unlucky Mugger
08:00 2003 Jul 20 Reported for morning muster. Sgt. O'Brien said to be on lookout for an early morning mugger in the park as there have been several incidents in the last month and the captain and the mayor were getting anxious.
08:15 Dropped off at patrol #23B. Sunny clear day after dry night. Few people in park.
08:18 Stopped by two females approx. 20 yo who "think" they saw a man in the bushes near the lake at 19 St.© YLeeCoyote
08:28 Issued citation to «deleted» for not picking up after his unleashed dog.
08:40 Stopped two 16 yo's males who were fishing in lake. Explained law and issued warning. Lovely great egret fishing lawfully.
08:49 Heard loud clapping(?) across lake and howls reminiscent of a baby. Investigating.
08:56 Saw the source of the sound after entering the meadow area north of the lake. There was a gray haired man on the bench spanking someone.
08:58 Closer to bench could see that man was spanking a youth and most effectively as the target buttocks and upper thighs were cherry red. Spankee was howling and promising to go straight.
08:59 Still closer – could see youth's jeans and briefs on ground. Also a full head mask and unsheathed 8" KNIFE.
09:02 Approached spanker and inquired if juvenile is in his charge. He stated that: "This young whippersnapper tried to mug me as I was walking my dogs. I would be most obliged if you would take him to jail." Juvenile yells "Arrest me, Officer. Get me away from this friggin' monster. He's fuckin' killing me. Please." I took the juvenile into custody and handcuffed him to lamppost to let his extremely hot nether regions cool. Called for backup and evidence kit. Read perp his Miranda rights.
09:15 Backup arrives – Smith #6424 and Casey #3341. Evidence collected and sealed properly. Perp fits the description given in morning briefing. Tabloid news fotog also arrives and gets picture of hot apple butt.
09:18 «deleted» who was jogging and «deleted» who was walking his dog both saw the event and confirm «deleted» the spanker's charge. Formal statements taken.
09:20 Backup departs scene with prep, evidence and statements. Resuming normal patrol.
© Copyright A.I.L., 22 July 2003
She stood in a corner by herself and talked to Nobody.
That got her into spanking trouble again.
Her mother heard her explaining to her imaginary friend how unfair it was that she had been spanked so hard.© YLeeCoyote
Now she was being spanked once again for talking during corner time.
© Copyright A.I.L., 26 July 2003
The Fortune Cookie
«You will see the apples ripen again.» said my fortune cookie and Colt, my kid brother, went into hysterics. Even our parents smiled a bit at the long life sort of prediction because we lived in apple country and I've seen the apples ripen every fall in the orchards. The best ones being those left on the trees to turn bright red like in the catalogs. Well, I had another eight months to wait. We'll know by Halloween.
The year end holidays came and went we were back in school and I had forgotten that little slip of paper.
I was not expecting to be reminded about it but Colt really messed up at school. Not only did he fail a test but that very same day also brought home a note about his deportment from the vice-principal. That father was not pleased is the understatement of the year.© YLeeCoyote
Dad coming to our room was not really a surprise. Even the cocky miscreant could hear the barely controlled anger but he was too much of a smart ass to keep quiet and just let dad lecture him.
After the second wisecrack, dad yelled that he should shut his stupid and filthy mouth. Even that was not enough to get through to him for he made another and was doomed. Dad grabbed him by his belt. Two yanks opened and let him extract the thick leather belt from Colt's jeans. Another yank and the buttons opened. Colt was pleading, no, actually begging for mercy and promising to study and behave.
But it was too late to save his butt for dad was not listening now. Down came his jeans immediately followed by his briefs.
"BEND OVER AND DON'T MOVE, BOY!!" barked dad.
The folded belt flashed as it crashed down on my brother's buns. Over and over the belt smashed down on the target. Colt was yelling and crying but dad continued to strap him good and proper as he liked to say. It seemed like hundreds of cuts but only took three minutes. I was just watching when dad stopped and left us alone. Colt collapsed on his bed crying.
I sat there, mesmerized for a long time starting at my brother's tail with my hand in my crotch. Yes, the fortune cookie prediction was absolutely correct for dad had blistered his butt to bright apple red.
© Copyright A.I.L., 04 August 2003
Boris Gets Spanked
Boris, like many a naughty boy, was standing in the corner while Mr. Leader was listening to the report on the telephone. All Boris could hear were very short responses grunted in an very displeased tone finishing up with: "I'll take care of the matter right away." and the phone hung up
Boris was certain that he was in for it. He knew all to well that the most powerful man was most displeased and that was not good – especially for himself
"Come here, young man." was the crisp order. Boris complied; instantly and fearfully© YLeeCoyote
"You failed your last assignment." Boris mumbled agreement
"You will be punished in accord with the new policy…"
Boris trembled even though he did not know what the new policy was.
He was grabbed and pulled close without another word. He was too scared to object or even resist. His belt was opened, his pants lowered and he went over the man's lap. Held in place, there was naught that Boris could do as the big hand smashed against his very exposed bottom. The long and powerful arm continued the spanking until Boris' butt was bright red and sizzling hot
Although he howled during the spanking, he was not crying. Back on his feet, he was lectured (again) about the price of failure
At the end of the lecture, Boris Badenov responded as always: "Yes, Fearless Leader."
"You want to use a hyphen there? Ooooo, that's very naughty!
He shivered hearing that knowing, all too well, what happened when his father used that word. Silently; fearfully he watched the English teacher take the paddle from the desk drawer.
He dropped his pants and bent over.© YLeeCoyote
© Copyright A.I.L., 07 August 2003
There was an item about the Chicago Manual of Style in today's New York Times. I took the opening line from this paragraph: «"We used to take style questions over the phone," said Ms. Samen, who is also managing editor of the books division of the University of Chicago Press. "I always thought we should make it a 900 number." Showing how that might go, she lowered her voice seductively: "You want to use a hyphen there? Ooooo, that's very naughty!"»
23: This is a stand-alone sequel to my previous story Boris Gets Spanked which is effectively summarized in the first paragraph.
Boris Spanks Back
Boris was upset. Not only did his butt hurt from the hard spanking from Fearless Leader but he knew that it was unjust. He never felt any blame for the failures; they were always because the plans and intelligence from Fearless Leader were flawed and/or Natasha Fatale screwed up. Well, it certainly was not practical, i.e., safe to tell Fearless Leader that he was at fault – particularly now that he had just been <shudder> spanked by Fearless Leader. His anger must seek another.
"Boris, what is the matter? You've been acting very strange since you saw Fearless Leader. And why are you sitting on that thick cushion?"© YLeeCoyote
"COME HERE, NATASHA." he growled.
As Natasha approached, Boris reached up, without warning, and grabbed her arm and pulled hard. She lost her balance and fell across his lap. They both winced; she because the air had been knocked out of her and he because of the extra pressure on his still sore butt. The pressure on his butt was slightly relieved for Natasha's head, hands and feet were all on floor supporting much of her weight.
Boris flipped up her skirt and placed his arm across her back hold it up and her down. "Fearless Leader is most displeased with YOUR failures." he declared authoritatively. "This is the new protocol." With his free hand he reached for the waist band of her unmentionables and yanked them down.
Spank. SPANK. SPANK!
"No, Boris, NO." But her yells did naught but to encourage further spanks.
SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!!
Soon her bottom was bright red and Boris' anger modified. He stopped spanking her, helped the crying lass to her feet and led her to the corner. "Stay here, young lady, I until I call you…" As he left the room he added: "…and no rubbing." In a few minutes he was back and pulled a chair over to the corner where she standing. After climbing up, he pinned her skirt up.
He stood for some time admiring her glowing cheeks and rubbing his own.
© Copyright A.I.L., 12 August 2003
The Prince and the Frog
Once upon a time there was a prince.
Yes, of course, he was handsome and brave like in every fairy tale. Unfortunately, this prince was not very happy at the moment for he was squatting in the pond trying to cool his very hot and sore bottom rather than thinking about wonderful and exciting adventures. He was in this situation for he had displeased his mother, the Queen, and before you could have said "Jack be nibble, Jack be quick." he had been pulled over the royal lap with his britches and pants down being spanked just like any other naughty boy is spanked.
Yes, just like you. And she spanked him because they were in the summer cottage in woods and not surround by the Court and a zillion servants. So, now, he was trying to cool his bottom in the pond and regain his dignity for he felt he was far to old to be spanked – especially on his bare bottom with his pants down about his ankles.© YLeeCoyote
He was being watched by a medium size bullfrog. He reached out to it and to his surprise it jumped onto his hand saying: "Croak, croak, croak." in a deep baritone, cocked his head and looked at him.
"I wonder if I kiss you if you will turn into a handsome and brave prince like in the fairy tails. Or maybe that only happens to princesses." the prince said out loud.
"Croak, croak, croak."
With that encouragement, the prince brought the frog to his lips. He was a real boy and was not afraid of getting warts or any girly stuff like that. Actually the hardest part was to kiss it for he hadn't quite gotten to like doing that yet.
Don't make a face; when you get older you get to like it also. There was a flash and the prince was really surprised that there really was some sort of an enchantment on the frog. But before he could figure it out, he suddenly realized that he was swimming. He made his way to a rock and climbed onto it. The frog was climbing up on the other side.
"Croak, croak, croak." went the deep baritone.
And to his amazement he understood the inflections and responded: "Croak, croak, croak." in a tenor.
That's right – and they lived happily ever after. Now, be a good boy and go to sleep now.
© Copyright A.I.L., 15 August 2003
Little Red Riding Hood Comes Visiting
"Stay in the house and NO TV." she snapped. "And do your homework, children. I'll be back in an hour." she concluded leaving Hansel and Gretel alone in the house.
"Right on schedule." said Hansel knowing that she would be gone for at least four hours. He stepped to the window and whistled. A minute later Red came in with her basket of goodies. The girls kissed as Hans investigated what Granny would never taste. After they finished the wine, they decided to play house. A couple of years earlier, Hans would never have agreed but now he had very different ideas about how much fun it was. They all loved playing grownup.
"Red, how is granny?" asked Gretel in her best step-mother voice.© YLeeCoyote
"Just fine, mother. She loved the wonderful goodies you sent." replied the naughty little girl.
"You're lying, child. I had to go past her house today and the doctor was there. I told you what would happen the next time you lied." Hans interjected.
"Yes, daddy." squeaked the chagrined girl. "But please don't spank me. I promise I'll never lie again. Please, daddy. Pretty please." she pleaded.
But it did not do her any good. Authoritarian Hans undid the button of her red hooded cloak letting it fall. Then he pulled the willing girl over his lap. He held her red skirt up with one arm while simultaneously yanking down her red panties down to her ankles with the other. Hans admired her cute butt and his young manhood rose in salute (which she could feel pressing into her tummy). At the same time he began to spank her – hard. He watched how his hand prints formed and then blurred. She kicked, dislodging her panties, as he spanked. All of her squirming afforded him a good view of her sex as he worked to turn her bottom her favorite color.
Gretel was not to be left out of this. She began to use the big, wide, heavy, oak hair brush on Red's already red butt. Red was soon yelling in earnest and totally caught up in her emotions.
"She dripping ready, sis." declared Hans. "She really randy." he continued reacting to the pheromones oozing from her every pore.
The spanking stopped and Gretel laid down on the floor with her legs spread and lifted up her skirt revealing her own wet pussy. Hans shifted Red to her knees with her mouth on Gretel's sex with her fiery red butt jutting up. Hans opened his own britches allowing his hard shaft to spring free. He got behind Red, slipped on a condom and easily drove his anxious tool deep into her dripping hole.
They fucked hard like teens can and do without letup each coming several times. Eventually they stopped and dressed.
"It been almost three hours, Red, you better go for the wardens will be home soon but come again next week." Hans and Red French kissed while he caressed her flaming red butt.
"Bring Big Bad too." added Gretel.
© Copyright A.I.L., 17 August 2003
Nicholas was not to be one of the party; he was in disgrace. The Saturday morning post had put the evidence in his hand – his midterm report card was, to say the least, most unsatisfactory. The rest of his gang was going to Roger's pool to celebrate his birthday. He had heard his doom pronounced by his disappointed father in front of his year younger brother and their cousin. As far back that he could remember Roger's pool birthday parties were absolutely FANTASTIC. But he would be confined to his cell with his school books. Even if Gabriel blew his horn he would still be grounded.
He knew that he had no one else to blame but himself. Knowing all about video games and TV shows does not help to pass math and history exams. "Yes, father, no excuses and I understand why." he had honestly said. Nick remained deep in thought for a long time. Then he made up his mind. He went to the TV room where the others were watching the game.
"Father, did Grandpa ever ground Uncle Joe or you when you were my age?" Of course, he knew the answer.© YLeeCoyote
Both men twitched in their seats. "No, son. He would take us out the woodshed and strap us hard."
"And we remembered to behave properly for a long time." added his uncle.
"Father, would you strap me like Grandfather did to you rather than grounding me." he paused, "Please." The implied contract was clear.
The others just looked at each other in surprise.
After a long pause, his uncle spoke: "The lad has made a real decision – he must be growing up."
"Very well, Nicholas. Drop your pants and bend over. This is going to hurt but don't move until it is over."
"Yes, sir." he answered but with a little less conviction that he had when making the request.
"You'll get ten, son." Dad removed his thick leather belt and folded it in two. He raised it and brought it down with a loud
Nick bit his lip to keep from screaming. His brother and cousin watched the red stripe form for the very first time. Nine more times the belt kissed his bottom. The stripes all merged leaving his butt bright red.
"You took that very well, Nick. Now get dressed. And all of you get your towels and the presents. It almost party time."
An hour later the party was in full swing with a score of boys having a great time dressed, most appropriately, in their birthday suits romping in the pool. Even though each of them had given the birthday boy his spanks Nicholas's tail was still the reddest. How he achieved that pinnacle was a major topic of discussion both that afternoon and in school afterwards.
It was only after he graduated from high school that Nick decided that pro's of his strapping being public knowledge outweighed the con's.
© Copyright A.I.L., 20 August 2003
Proper Sibling Behavior
The twins had been warned several times at the family picnic. Now they were back home and being lectured by their parents.
"You shamed us in front of the entire family." said their mother.
"All of your cousins – Jamie and Alana and Dustin and Katrina – behaved properly." said their father. "What is wrong with you two?" he demanded.© YLeeCoyote
The two stood mute. Even if they had an answer they had long ago learnt that silence and starting shamefaced at the floor was the safest option. But that would not prevent the wheel of parental justice turning and crushing all in their path.
"Get the chairs." said father.
"And the hairbrush and paddle." added their mother.
Three minutes later the parents were sitting side by side (a couple of meters apart). Father held the paddle and mother the hairbrush. (It was good enough for my mother, it's good enough for me she thought.)
Sebastian stepped to his father's side and opened his belt and pants and pushed them down along with his briefs. He did not resist as his father positioned him and clamped him into the OTK position. Simultaneously, his sister, Sharon, dropped her skirt and pushed down her panties. She was immediately in position over her mother's lap. The twins eyes met briefly in mutual understanding.
Both the paddle and the hair brush were raised and lowered on the targets many times until both targets were hot and crimson. For each pained cheek there was a eye overflowing with tears. As the implements rained down so did the lectures emphasizing their mis-deeds.
"We'll not have any of this getting along together. You will fight like all proper brothers and sisters do."
© Copyright A.I.L., 26 August 2003
Boy Gets Spanked
Boy was whining – again. He wanted the toys like the boys in the village had but his father refused to get them for him. There was the rash of usual reasons – too expensive, not good for you, you don't take care of your things and you got to do your lessons. Of course, the lad did not find any of this convincing.
But he was a resourceful lad and decided get things on his own. Of course, if he had done so honestly, he would still have gotten into trouble (for disobedience and disrespect of his father) but stealing the toy was a major mistake.
A toy is not any fun unless you actually use it and that was the lad's undoing. He was playing with it when then he heard father yelling: "I'm home, Jane." Then it was too late to hide it.© YLeeCoyote
His father saw and questioned – and questioned. Soon the boy confessed all.
He was lectured (as naughty boys the world over are lectured) for the longest time. Then his father yanked the cord about his waist and his loin cloth fell. The dust barely started to rise when he was over his father's lap.
His father was very strong and did not use all his strength in spanking his son but it was more than sufficient. The hard hand, driven by the strong arm crashed into the target with sufficient force to cause significant discomfort in the boy. Soon his bottom was flaming red and hot as a fire. As much as he tried, he could not help but to cry like a little cub.
Soon after still sobbing, he returned to the village and returned the toy to its rightful owner with an apology and promises of never again.
I hope that Edgar Rice Burroughs will forgive my use of his characters, Tarzan, his wife Jane and son Boy.
June the first: Hooray!
Wild yarns spout and bloom.
SPANK! WHACK! All the days.
Labor Day now here.
© Copyright A.I.L., 01 September 2003
The End of Collection
© Copyright A.I.L., Summer, 2003
The URL for this page is: https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/SSC20032.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023